Friday, August 14, 2009

I have previously stated that I am for the legalization of cannabis - or the holy ganja. And while it is my humble opinion that it semanticly should be about a de-criminalisation (but I guess the anti-lobby won that one aswell); Twinchlians initiative of creating a Legalize Ganja-mybrute is quite genious.

While I am doubtfull that he can rouse the stoners and the good people of pro to play a 30 second game - I must agree that If he managed to get some people with him it would be a strong statement from the silent community.

It would take about 30 000 clicks to this link http://Legalize-Ganja.mybrute.com for Twinchlians mad scheme to bear fruit. I wish the slackers and spammers of the world good luck with that. My work here is done.

If there is a Gods own race, except for redhaired people who are not really gods children but elves or possibly - according to Thom-Thom - martians, they most certainly are the tribe of Israel. In many ways its a game of who-said-it-first; only that the jews most likly didnt say it first. They just said it loudest.

This might seem far fetched to some - and maybe even obvious to others: Would there have been a Jesus without a Judas? Trine W. (who showed me her Lord (The Lord of Hosts+Jesus Loves you) - a God who greatly enhanced that God to which I fumbingly pray) even suggests Jesus told Judas to betray him.

Because I dream of one day beeing well enough to write epic pieces I have analyzed quite a few such pieces. Great stories usually have, to quote the late Robert Jordan, wheels within wheels. The small things are pictures of the big things, and the big things are renderings of the grand themes etcetera. To me; the Israelite, the Jew, then becomes a picture of Judas - and Jesus a picture of the Christians.

Would there be christians without jews? Would there be christianity, at all, today without the jews? It might seem rethorical, but I think we would all be pagans or buddhists without the tribe of Israel. I think this probably is a easy question to most people. Christianity, either your mostly for it or you are mostly against it. Its almost a matter of faith. To me: This is a tricky one.

The curious case of mr. Mohammed Omer of Gaza. There are hundres of thousands, if not millions, example cases. Many much more grave than this one. I choose mr. Mohammed Omer of Gaza, presently of nederlands, because I followed his reporting from Gaza over several years. While pointed, and not always objective enough, his reporting and his efforts to be objective while his people is being harrazed and murdered has earned him ceveral journalistic prises.

I hadnt realized he was gone from my paper (Morgenbladet) until I read this article on db.no. While beeing followed across the border by a dutch diplomat mr. Omer was taken into an interrigationroom while the diplomat stood outside and thougth that everything was ok. Mr Omer was beaten in such a way, according to his dutch doctor responsible for his rehabilitiation, that the damages would be as invisible but long term as possible.

Mr. Omers great work, which he longs to be back at after nine months of rehabilitation in the netherlands, has been in part facilitated by the norwegian aid organization Norsk Folkehjelp who have given mr. Omer the steady employment to finance his journalistic work. Now he just received a letter that he is fired because he has been to long on sick-leave. The still young, once promising man is - in the worst case - broken and silenced.

Actions like this by the tribe of Israel, Gods own people, raises many questions. Non of which I am prepared to answer other than that this people must heed its prophets or most surley He will strike through His most loyal moslems.

While the symptoms of angst and depression can be somewhat aleviated by ganja and alcohol in states of emergencies like vacation and traveling (where Im supposed to function like a normal human beeing) - neither are very good long-term drugs as they after a time will strengthen the very symptoms they were supposed to linder.

So when the vacation is over, and everyday life starts - I need more healthy medicine. Physical exersice and nature are two of the best remedies known to man for just about anything. For a guy suffering from some sort of post traumatic stress disorder syndrome this remedy is of vital imortance to my very survival.

We are going to my mother for supper. Its a almost 2 hour walk, and its not easy finding your way from A to B without a map or some local knowledge. If you are a normal person in my city you move from A to B in a car - or a buss if your poor. You dont walk. Using our beautifull nature-walks is reserved for jogging, bikers, dog-walkers and wildlife-entusiasts. Thus paths dont really go anywhere usefull.

But, when you know the way, its a beautifull and refreshing walk - even in rainy weather.

The mouse is dead. The slug seems to be checking it out. Is it hungry or aroused?

The scientific farm at Vågøynes. They lay claim to some prime realestate - and because of that the College is 8 kilometres from the senter of the town instead of lying just outside. A shame, really.

Now if you click this link you'll go to a place, and be asked to create a character, which you do by chosing an appearance and a name. When you click confirm (or whatnot) you'll go to a bplace not unlike this:

After watching a brief fight (you cant control it) you'll go to your characterscreen - you have 6 more fights today. Perfect game. Wont take to much time out of your days - and still you get the gratification of kicking ass, leveling and chewing bubblegum!

Monday, August 10, 2009

The political-liberal blogger Pleym hath some opinions on freedom, laws and Ghandi-style smuggling and partying. While he don't acctually agree with norwegian liberal party Venstre, thats the party he is a member of. In the coming election freedom-minded electors should ponder on the fact that freedom-extremists choose this party and not the other "liberal" party, FrP.

I have great hopes for Venstre - once the current leadership is either removed, or start fighting their political battles in the brave new world the rest of us are living in, they just might become a party for the generations of free souls our struggles have won us from the eigthies and up.

Sunday, August 09, 2009

In a dangerous ally smoking the holy ganja. If I ever become a saint I most likly will be a saint of drunks and damaged people.

We walk into a different world than the one we left. The philosophical river of never-twice-entering becomes real. Lodz is a city lost in dark memories, stuck in the river and suffering in its bondage.

Its funny. Stasjek, the local guy, is scared walking through the poor back-alleys. Me and my wife;we so hard mådderfåkkers; we doñ' give a shit. We've been worse places together than this, and we never got a scratch outside Norway.

Warzaw airport the next morning at like 5 in the fucking AM. (The cheapest flights are alwaysat some inconvenient time). Guess how fucking drunk and stoned I am at this point. Yes, I hate flying.

Stasjek lived in Bodø for six years - taking a bachelor in economics and starting 3 more and less succesful busineses. Seeing the boy grow into a man has been a wonderfull expirience. Some disapointments and many things that was beyond all my hopes for this man when we first met. The text on the Picasso-poster is a mac advertisement stating you should "Think different."

He foreclosed his business in Norway (Snekkpol) and started an airconditioning busines with his father. I fucking love that he did that. If you contact him and tell him you read my blog and think he seems like a cool guy; he will give you a fine discount on any airconditioning needs and maybe even take the time to read your other busines-proposals.

This picture is from the backroom of his office.This picture is from Thom-Thom Billkofskijs blog Guns, Girls and Ganja. I never noticed until Stasjek pointed it out: The bird is the polish sigil and the cross is upside down. The polish never had no hippies, academic 68's or feminist revolution; this is an artfull representation of their protest.

Stasjek a revolutionary merely by trying to do some of the work in the home. His mother once tried to leave his fathers completly prepared dinner-plate in the kitchen, instead of serving it to him whereever he was sitting. His fater simply refused to eat until she started serving him in the sofa or whatnot again.

He loves tecnologicly perfect sound. He can use hours searching qxl.no, ebay and such for hours after highend speakers, amps, cables, jacks and so on. He claims the norwegian used-markeds are among the best in the world, our prized possesions loose their value quickly he notes of my people.

Ewa was angry and leaving for the lake, and the only reason she agreed to wait was to give us the keys. We met close to Dopalace, so when she had left we smoked a bit placebo-ganja.

One thing led to another and soon we where drinking a few beers in some street bar in Pietrowska. We later moved on to a Coctail bar where we hung for a while drinking a capiriña, a mohito and a long island icetea. After a while this guy apeared - lets just call him Omerta. He was the, as the polish say, the hardcor'owskij.

Later that night some fool wanted to shot 95% Rektofykowani with me. At first I said no, my cojones are so big I dont need that shit. And besides Id been drinking for 12 hours and smoking for 6 and I wasnt sure I could perform that particular feat at that particular time. He started talking about how cool and hard he always had thought norwegians to be. He'd have to rewise that opinion now. When he put it like that I just had to shot with him. I estimate the shot as a 4cl shot - which is quite hard for that kind of poison. We went. I immediatly swallowed a few big gulps of beer sawing my throat. The dude was to far gone to reach for a drink, lost his breath and was just croaking. When I was sure my throat was cleansed I gave my beer to him (there where others on the table) he cleansed his throath and ran to the batroom to puke. Omerta couldnt stop laughing.

is like a small town centre, a village in the city. The LKS tagg behind the vegetable-farmerlady (or whatnot) is one of the two élite soccer-teams in Lodz. Once in a bar in the industrial district I was asked which team I prefer. I got out by loving only Barcelona and Bodø Glimt.

There are plenty of second-hand shops in Poland, and suprisingly cool stuff to be found.

This is supposed to be a tram. Not the best of pictures.

I love sunsets. Reminds me of the Camino de Santiago. I can never deside if this picture is ruined or enhanced by the car in the forefront.

By the local tramstation is our second local pub - maybe 500 meters from home. You just have to love the name Kebab Drink Bar, and the irony of having the worst kebabs ever while serving very decent polish food. I loved their pulpetys.

And this girl was incredibly qute and shyly flirtatious. I always called her Sweetie and that would always make her look exactly like this picture here.

Her english wasnt to good though, (and my polish really sucks!) so when I was ordering I acctually had to take a picture and use my phone as a menu to explain what I want.

I like this portrait of Marcin. He carries all the promises of youth, and yet he makes you worry. Will he stand tall or fall?

Drinking, smoking and listening to music together. (Hence the carpet on the wall - to soften the sound). Marcins brother, Pizarro did'nt like me taking this picture. And I guess, if his parents saw it he might get in trouble. He is 15 and his brothers driver, they have snuck out of the house. But really, he's just taking care of his brother! Good kid, but a littlebit recerved. Doesnt touch ganja or alcohol. At first I felt kind of shocked that he was driving without a license, but then I remembered the shit we did when we where 15. I guess some things are the same everywhere.

Read interesting theory recently: Young males feeling of inwounerability is neccesary evolutional trait for the young male to go out on his own to find good life-mate and start own happy family.

For hours they could retreat to their bedroom where they laughed and played like innocents - or fucked like life itself depended upon it. When I took this picture Stasjek said 'Yes! When they [the norwegians] ask how I am doing in Poland - show this picture and say nothing.'

The park in Lodz is amazing - its huge and in the middle of the city. Driving in Lodz you get the feeling the town has grown out of the forrest floor and that it in itself is some sort of plant. Often my thoughts wander to the temples around Ankor Wat where the jungle has eaten mans proud work. This city would be lost as quickly.

Feet may hurt in parks. Then it is good to relax in the shade for a while.

Carla Brunis hallway. Her apartment is just next to the Dopalace, a local headshop who in addidtion to pipes, phillies and papers sells quite good designer-drugs made by legal ingredients - both partypills and weedsubstitutes. The weed-substitutes are funny and a bit sad. They make you stoned, but doesnt help you feel the presence of God, doesnt make you feel happy again. Theyr quite good to mix with alcohol though.

I fucking hate getting my head in every shot. This is the only half-decent picture of the cool girl who lost her name in the drunken haze. She's an art-student and she promised to show me her stuff. She never did - but I hope she will - mats [at] apeskalikkedrepeape.org

In retrospect it feels kind of uncool to be that happy for some attetion from the happy-people. But you know how it is, happines has a tendency to spread like a violent flu. Notice Agnes managing to hide her face from the photocamera.

My wife has a very interesting expression. But she seems to be smiling.

This guy thougth I was hot and interesting. He made me feel very good. Boys are usually better than girls at that trix. Had only I found him hot and interesting I daresay we would have had a gay time together.

At the bottom of the great (but not great) shopping-street Pietrowska street, there is a large downtown transportation hub with buses, trams, taxis, cycle-taxis and walking humanoids. In stead of making things more effective; the scourge of western civilization - instead of scrapping the old buses and streamlining things, these guys use their equipment till it stops fucking working.

Oldschool. I like it! And that, my friend is ecology when you dont have the means to go electric.